


An Extended Leave of Absence

by jane_with_a_j



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett, Keeper's Chronicles - Tanya Huff
Genre: Background Aziraphale/Crowley, Gen, Heaven loves its paperwork, Set in a spooky hotel, Talking Cats, but nothing spooky happens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-04
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:28:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27877626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jane_with_a_j/pseuds/jane_with_a_j
Summary: Samuel thought he heard voices.“So he's off the duty roster?”“Let's just say he's on an extended leave of absence.”“Let's just say?” The first voice snorted.  “Oh, easy for you, Gabriel.  You're not the one who has to fill his post on the Perdition front.”“Bitch, bitch, bitch.”-Tanya Huff, The Second SummoningAziraphale visits the Elysian Fields Guest House.
Relationships: Austin & Dean (The Keeper's Chronicles), Austin & Sam (The Keeper's Chronicles), Aziraphale (Good Omens) & Sam (The Keeper's Chronicles), Diana & Sam (The Keeper's Chronicles)
Kudos: 13





	An Extended Leave of Absence

**Author's Note:**

> So I've been wanting to put Aziraphale and Samuel in the same room for ages now. Took me a bit to figure out how to do it. The trick, as it turned out, was to quit trying to write a Good Omens fic with Sam as a guest star, and instead write a Keeper's Chronicles fic with Aziraphale as a guest star.
> 
> If you're here for the Good Omens content, and not a Tanya Huff reader, this fic is a basically a big fat spoiler for The Second Summoning, so if you think you might want to read it and don't like spoilers, turn back! Turn back now!
> 
> If you don't care about any of that, here's what you need to know for this story to make sense:
> 
> Claire is a Keeper, part of an ancient lineage of people who maintain the balance between good and evil in the world. She is also the current owner and operator of a Spooky Hotel (tm).  
> Diana is her sister. She's not a Keeper yet, because this story is set between books 2 and 3 of the trilogy, so she's still in high school.  
> Dean is the only employee at the aforementioned spooky hotel. He is tidy, polite, and basically the most good-natured person you'll ever meet. He once went to Hell and tidied the brimstone.  
> Austin is a talking cat, because it's that kind of story.  
> Sam was once an angel. Then he was an angel trapped in the body of a hormonal teenage boy. Now, he's something else entirely.

Austin yawned. The black-and-white cat was stretched out on the windowsill in the kitchen of the Elysian Fields Guest House, wondering vaguely whether he could convince Dean to give him a bit of the chicken he'd seen in the fridge before Claire and Diana got back from the Library.

A skittering of claws on the linoleum startled him into alertness, followed by the crash of a chair being knocked over, as a small orange blur streaked across the kitchen and vanished into the narrow space beside the fridge. Doing his very best to maintain his air of feline aloofness, Austin stood, stretched, jumped down from the windowsill and stalked across the floor to where Samuel was hiding. Sam hadn't been a cat for very long, but Austin had to admit, he seemed to have mastered the art of squeezing into small places.

“Something wrong?” Austin asked. From the space beside the fridge, a pair of wide green eyes glinted back at him.

“Don't let him find me!”

“Don't let who find you?” Austin asked.

“The Principality!” wailed Sam.

Austin's whiskers twitched. A Principality. Here, at the guest house? It could be a coincidence. The Elysian Fields Guest House was, after all, a place that tended to attract ... _unusual_ visitors. Decades of buildup of energy from an unsealed hole into Hell would do that. On the other hand, it was certainly possible that Heaven was looking for their missing angel.

As irritating as Sam could be, Austin didn't want him to be whisked away back to where he'd come from. Diana would be upset if he let that happen, and loath as he was to admit it, Austin did not like being the one to upset Diana.

There was nothing for it but to go and investigate.

With a sigh, Austin sauntered across the kitchen and made his way out to the front desk. Dean, the resident housekeeper, cook, handyman and part-time receptionist, was alone, making a note in the guest book. Ignoring Dean's protest about claws on the wood he had just refinished, Austin jumped up onto the desk – a bit trickier than it had once been. He was getting old. He settled himself down on top of the guest book. He glanced at the most recent name on the list as he did so.

“I see we have a new guest,” he said. “Mr. ... Fell, is it?”

“He arrived about ten minutes ago,” said Dean. “I put him in room three.”

“And what was this Mr. Fell like?”

“Middle-aged, I'd guess,” said Dean. “English.” He frowned.

“What?” asked Austin.

“He was ... a bit rude,” said Dean.

“Oh?”

“Not ... he didn't say anything, but I offered to make him some tea, and he got a sort of a _look_ on his face,” said Dean.

“Oh, well,” said Austin. “You know how particular the English are about their tea.”

“I _know_ how to make tea properly,” said Dean defensively.

“I'm sure you do,” said Austin. “Was there anything unusual about him?”

“Not really,” said Dean, which didn't mean anything. Dean was remarkably bad at spotting the supernatural, considering all he'd seen and done in the time he'd been working there. “He was dressed like something out of one of those period dramas Claire likes,” he went on. “Velvet waistcoat, pocketwatch, bow tie.” He attempted to slide the guest book out from under Austin's haunches, to no avail. “He reminded me a bit of my buddy Steve's uncle, up in Gander. He–”

“Did he say why he was in town?”

“No,” said Dean. “Why?”

Austin yawned.

“No reason,” he said. “Sam was a bit nervous around him, that's all. You know how he can get.”

*****

Austin, being a cat, had a knack for getting in to places where he wasn't supposed to be. So while Sam continued to cower in the kitchen, Austin staked out a spot in the hall outside room three and waited. Sure enough, after a while, the mysterious Mr. Fell emerged. Austin eyed the man. Blond. Middle-aged. Prim-looking. A living, breathing caricature of an Englishman, which, Austin, thought, was an interesting choice of disguise. Austin, being not just a cat, but a Keeper's cat, could see the signs about him that he was not what he seemed. Sam was right. The stranger was an angel, and not just any angel. A Principality. A guardian of the mortal world. As the Principality in question turned to shut the door to his room, Austin darted through the crack, unseen. He mulled over the situation as he inspected the room. Unlike most angels, who came to this plane to deliver messages or complete tasks, and were then promptly reabsorbed into the Heavenly Host, Principalities were more or less permanently stationed on Earth. The Keepers had dealings with them, occasionally, but for the most part, they kept their distance.

So why was he here?

The angel had, apparently, brought a small suitcase with him, which he had left open on the bed. Austin jumped up to examine its contents, wondering vaguely what an angel would pack for a trip. Books, as it turned out. Not a single item of clothing, just books, more books, and a bottle of cologne. Austin snorted. The books he could see, but an angel who wears cologne?

Further inspection of the room didn't reveal anything useful. Austin sat down to wash an ear while he mulled his options. The door was shut and locked, so there weren't many. With a sigh, he slipped under the bed to wait.

*****

It was about half an hour later that the angel returned to the room, humming softly to himself as he shut and locked the door behind him. Austin peered out from under the bed, hoping to see or hear something useful. After a minute or so, the angel sat down on the edge of the bed, picked up the phone, and dialed. It was far too many digits for a local number. It shouldn't have been possible to place an international call from these phones, but that was angels for you. If it didn't occur to them that something wasn't possible, then it miraculously became possible.

“It's me,” the angel said. Austin couldn't make out the voice on the other end of the line. “Perfectly lovely,” the angel went on, in response to whatever the other person had said. “You would hate it.” He paused, listening. “No, the Keeper appears to be out. The young man at the front desk does make a lovely cup of tea, though. Far better than I would have expected in _Canada_.” Another, longer pause. “Really, my dear,” he chided. “I hardly... oh, never mind that. No, there's no sign of poor Samuel. Were you able to find out anything about...? No?” the Principality sighed. “Pity. I'll keep my eyes open in any case.” Another pause. “Oh, that sounds lovely,” he said. “Perhaps at that little café near the – yes, that one. I look forward to it. Pip-pip!” He hung up the phone. The bed creaked as he rose.

Austin stayed where he was, pondering his next move. After a moment, he crept out from under the bed. The angel was standing over the dresser, making a note in a small notebook with a fancy fountain pen. He didn't look up. Austin huffed, and jumped up onto the dresser. The angel gave a little yelp.

“Oh,” he said. “Where did you come from?” Austin just stared at him. “Well,” said the angel. “We'll have to find out where you belong, won't we?” In one smooth movement, he scooped the cat up in his arms. Austin tolerated it just long enough for the angel to open the door to the hallway, then gave him a good hard kick, squirmed free, and bolted. “What a lovely cat,” he heard the angel say. Austin paused. Sniffed. Well. At least the Principality had good taste.

*****

“I've got good news and bad news,” Austin said to the shadow beside the fridge.

“Yeah?” said Sam.

“Good news, the Principality doesn't actually know that you're here.” He flicked his tail. “Bad news, he's definitely looking for you.”

“I don't want to go back!” Sam wailed.

“Oh, calm down,” said Austin. “We'll just have to keep you hidden until he leaves. You should stay here. Out of sight.”

“How long do you think I'll need to stay here?”

“Who knows?” said Austin. It would, he thought, be more convenient if Sam found some other place to hide. Somewhere far away from the refrigerator, and the chicken it contained. Austin was the elder, and also the only _real_ cat here; he didn't see why he should have to share. He looked up at the clock. Dean probably wouldn't be starting dinner for another couple of hours anyway, and Claire and Diana might well be back by then. He decided to go into Claire's room to wait.

*****

As it turned out, he didn't have to wait very long. No sooner had he settled himself on the bed, then he heard a clatter coming from inside the wardrobe. Then another clatter, a loud thud, and the door flew open, the two sisters stumbling out.

“If you had just let me–”

“You're not a Keeper yet,” Claire huffed. “And I really wasn't in the mood to get eaten by a giant talking polar bear today.”

“Don't you start–”

“Ahem.” Austin drew himself up.

“Hi Austin,” said Claire. “How long were we in there?”

“About four hours,” said Austin.

“Not bad,” said Diana. She ran a hand through her dishevelled hair. “We miss anything?”

“As a matter of fact,” said Austin, “we have a new guest.”

Claire sighed, clearly recognizing Austin's tone. “What is it this time?” she asked. “Elf queen? Space alien? Another deity?”

“Principality,” said Austin. “Dean put him in room three.”

“Oh,” said Claire. “Which one? Is it Doug?”

Austin's tail twitched. He hadn't realized that Claire was on a first-name basis with any Principalities. Or that there were any Principalities named Doug.

“I didn't get his real name,” said Austin. “He didn't look much like a Doug, though.” He jumped up onto the dresser. “Blond, a bit on the heavy side. Fussy clothes, English accent.”

Claire thought about it for a moment, then shook her head.

“Nope,” she said. “I don't know who that is.”

“What's a Principality doing here?” Diana asked.

“Looking for Sam,” said Austin.

“No,” said Diana. Claire and Austin turned to look at her. “He can't have him.” Diana's face was pale, her eyes sparking. “If they take him back to Heaven now, he'll lose everything that makes him _Sam_.”

Claire looked at Austin. Diana wasn't wrong, but if Heaven wanted their angel back...

“ _Claire!”_ Diana's voice was filled with a level of outrage only a teenager could muster. “We have to _do_ something.”

“I think...” Claire paused.

“There's nothing to _think_ about, Claire!” Diana stomped her foot on the ground, then turned and strode toward the door. “Room three, you said, Austin?”

“Hold up,” said Claire. “What are you going to do?”

“I'm going to protect Sam,” said Diana, over her shoulder. Claire followed her, jogging to catch up. Austin followed.

“What exactly are you going to do?” Claire repeated. “You can't just send the _Principality_ back.”

“Of course I can,” said Diana. Claire grabbed her arm.

“No,” she said flatly. “You can't. Diana, there are rules.”

“I'm not saying that I'm _going to_ ,” said Diana. “I'm just saying that I _can_. If I have to.” She jerked her arm free and took off down the hall.

The Principality's door was locked. Before Claire could do anything about it Diana reached into the Possibilities and blew the lock clean off.

Claire was preoccupied with attempting to stop her sister from discorporating a Principality. Austin spared a thought for how annoyed Dean was going to be when he had to fix that door.

“You!” Diana snapped.

The Principality looked up from the bed, where he was sitting with a crocheted blanket around his shoulders and a heavy hardcover book in his hands. A pair of reading glasses was perched on the end of his nose, and Austin wondered if angels could be farsighted or if it was some sort of affectation.

“Hello,” he said. “Are you the Keeper?”

“I'm _a_ Keeper,” said Diana. “And I – hey!” She broke off as Claire elbowed her aside.

“No you're not,” said Claire “Not yet.” She turned to the Principality. “I'm the Keeper in charge of this site.”

The Principality smiled politely, set aside his book, and stood, extending his hand.

“A pleasure to meet you,” he said. “I am the Principality Aziraphale.”

“Claire Hansen,” said Claire warily, shaking the offered hand. “You ... aren't the Principality assigned to this region, are you?”

“Indeed I am not,” said Aziraphale. “But I'm afraid poor Hahasiah is ... not good with paperwork.”

“Hahasiah?”

“Mmhm,” said Aziraphale. “You may not know him by that name. In recent years he's started insisting on being called 'Doug.' Gone native, you might say. Worse than me,” he added, with a twinkle in his eye.

“So,” said Claire. “You're here about some ... paperwork?”

“Ah,” said Aziraphale. “Yes.” He reached into his jacket and withdrew a sheaf of papers in a nondescript brown folder. “Perhaps you can help me. I'm looking for the angel Samuel.”

“You can't have him,” Diana snapped, though her voice was a bit less forceful than it had been. Confusion was seeping in. This Principality was clearly not what she had expected.

“Have him?” Aziraphale frowned. “I think there must be a misunderstanding, my dear girl. I wasn't planning on taking him anywhere. Unless he wishes to leave, of course.” Diana visibly bristled at _my dear girl_ , but some of the tension went out of her shoulders.

“So what is it that you want with him?” Claire asked.

“Well,” said Aziraphale. “He's been provisionally approved for an extended leave of absence, but there are forms to fill out. Gabriel is a bit of a stickler about paperwork. He's not pleased that it's taken this long for us to track young Samuel down.”

Diana snatched the folder out of Aziraphale's hand and flipped it open. Austin hopped up onto the dresser so that he could get a look, but he couldn't make sense of what he was seeing. The letters on the page seemed to twist and reform as he looked at them, at no point resembling any sort of writing he had ever seen.

“I assure you,” said the Principality, “everything there is in order. I only need young Samuel's signature.”

“That might be tricky,” said a voice from the hallway. They all turned to see Sam, in his current shape, that of a small, marmalade tabby cat. He was watching them nervously from behind the doorjamb. “Do you think Gabriel would accept a paw print?”

*****

Austin padded into the dining room, where Aziraphale and Sam had long since finished with the paperwork, and Sam was now recounting the tale of how he had come to Earth. Aziraphale had another cup of tea and some shortbreads – Dean's grandmother's recipe, apparently – and Sam had a saucer of lactose-free milk.

“It was _awful_ ,” Sam was saying. “I had _genitalia._ ”

Aziraphale made a sympathetic noise.

“I like this body better,” said Sam. “Although the tail has taken some getting used to.”

Austin snorted and headed into the kitchen. It was only natural that Sam would prefer being a cat to being a human. Who wouldn't?

Dean was standing at the counter, chopping vegetables.

“So, the Principality is going to be staying a few days?” Austin asked.

“Yep,” said Dean. “He wanted to know where the best bakeries in town were. Who knew angels liked buttertarts so much?”

Austin leapt up onto the counter.

“Watch it,” said Dean. “I don't want any of your fur in the pot pie.”

“You know what you could do to get rid of me,” said Austin. Dean gave him a sidelong look. “You could give me some of that milk.”

“I don't think Claire would approve.”

“Claire's busy. And you gave some to Sam.”

“Sam's had a rough day.”

“So have I.”

“You have not.”

“I had to deal with Sam.”

Dean sighed. “Fine,” he said.

So, Austin thought, as Dean placed the saucer down on the floor, happy endings all around.

**Author's Note:**

> Lactose is bad for most adult cats.
> 
> Aziraphale & [unconventional angel] from [silly fantasy novel] is my brotp.
> 
> I am 100% team "Doug really was an angel." Change my mind.


End file.
